


Where to Begin

by Tomsuncle



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Angst, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M, Slow Burn, chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-10 08:40:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5578861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tomsuncle/pseuds/Tomsuncle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Robert Joseph Maccready is employed by a soft spoken assassin. He's never seen anyone so lethal but yet so kind, putting aside her sticky fingers, and he's beside himself when he grows to trust her.</p><p>Collection of Maccready and oc sole survivor. Very slow burn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy the Maccy D as much as I do.
> 
> I plan to post more chapters daily.

"Should we take this outside?" Maccready asked.

The gunners stood there, defensive and aggrivated. The two were boneheads, good for nothing but killing people for a couple of caps. Maccready thought if he tossed some money between the two they'd fight to the death for it. It'd take care of his problems at least. 

He heard someone else enter the room and sighed, sure it was another one of Winlock and Barne's goons. If it was, she didn't look like anyone they'd ever keep around- too soft looking. Her skin was too porcelain like, and her blonde hair was too clean. She probably smelled like- 

"If we hear you're still operating in gunner territory, all bets are off. You got that?" Barnes snarled.

"You finished?" Maccready asked. Then the two were out, staring googly eyes at the woman before exiting. She shied away from them, stepping so far out of their way that she seemed to almost crash into the wall. 

Then she locked eyes with Maccready, and he almost felt apologetic as she scowled at him. Her narrowed eyes seemed to judge him so hard that he became unsure if she was here to evaluate him like he was some sort of brahmin ready to be slaughtered. How could someone change demeanor so fast?

"Look lady, if you're looking for a friend, you've got the wrong guy. But if you're looking to hire a gun... Then maybe we can talk," Maccready said to her. 

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

He silently cursed himself. 100 caps, really? He got sapped out of 250 caps by a sliver tongued woman who couldn't even stand next to two low life mercs. Here he thought he was the guy who knew who to talk his way to success. He grumbled angrily as he followed her, unsure where they were heading. They were both silent and he lagged behind as he pouted. 

They walked for a week.

He'd do anything for caps but walking through the cold, crouching behind dumpsters so that he wouldn't get shot in the ass by raiders, only for 100 caps. Now that- that was something that Maccready might not do. But he watched the woman- Ana- stare down her scope and take out three raiders without needing a breath. He watched her run, her long legs agile even in crumbling buildings. Watched her breathe, think and do, every thing so thought out. She was focused, calm, and oddly kind. She always found a way to praise him. 

"Nice shot, Mccready," she'd say.

"Thank, boss," Mccready would reply, the compliment inflating his ego. Sometimes he'd even show off, hip shooting bloat flies or hitting mercs with the butt of his rifle. He'd try to sneak a glance at Ana to see if she saw. Most of the time she didn't, and he had to admit that he'd be a little disappointment. So he'd brag about it.

"Chalk up another kill for me," he'd gloat. She'd nod at him, shoot him a smile that shined, and carry on picking up antiques and stupid junk. 

Other than that, there was only awkward conversation. She might be a killer but she was shy as hell, especially for someone who squandered him out of caps. She only ever kept a low tone, as if she was always telling a secret she didn't want anyone to hear. He had to strain to hear her, and at times he had to pretend to catch what she said because he didn't want to keep asking her to speak up. 

But this wasn't as bad as being alone.

Before he knew it, Ana had reached her destination. He knew by how a tall man in a cowboy hat approached her with the warmest smile he had ever seen. 

"General," He greeted. The man eyed Maccready, his expression changing to disapproval for only a moment before he carried on his conversation with Ana. 

"Preston, anything for me?" Ana asked.

"I'm glad you asked. A settlement needs our help. Raider problems," Preston told her.

Preston pointed to where the settlement was on Ana's pip boy, and as she thanked him, he shot Maccready a suspicious look, then whispered into Ana's ear. He saw her shake her head, smile, then wave goodbye and she took up strides with Maccready.

"Minutemen huh?" Maccready asked after a few minutes of silence. Ana looked up at him. Maccready took a silent pride in being some two inches taller than her, somehow shrinking her authority over him in his mind. 

"You say it like you're surprised," Ana said. She brushed a short strand of hair out of her face.

"Not too many people are up to spending time helping others. Besides, don't think I didn't see those sticky little fingers pluck things from people when they weren't looking this past week," Maccready teased, and winked at her.

Ana let out a small laugh. "Oh, so you're observant too, huh?" 

"Well, you are looking at the best in the business."

Ana shook her head as she grinned. "I guess so."

"What, not impressed?" Maccready asked.

"I suppose I am. You've got a nice shot."

"I'm one hell- I'm a great shot. That's what made me so valuable to the gunners- sharpshooters aren't so easy to find, " Maccready bragged.

"Then what are the odds to find two together?" Ana asked, trying to fight the sly smile that was growing on her face. 

"You? A sharpshooter? Hardly," Maccready teased.

"Oh, so you're not impressed?" she asked.

"You got a lot to learn, and luckily for you, I'm a great teacher."

"Really? I wouldn't think you had the patience for it."

"Oh, I'm patient. Real patient." 

Maccready frowned. Were they flirting? He looked at her, blond hair tucked under a hood, golden eyes glancing away from him. He felt oddly close to her, at ease even. Out in the open like this- he couldn't afford to feel anything but alert, and somehow he was enjoying himself. It's a job, Robert, he thought. She's your boss, not your friend.

He straightened himself out, and cleared his throat. They walked the rest of the way in silence, the only communication being shared was a simple nod from Ana when he shot down a feral ghoul before she had noticed it some yards to their right. 

When they came upon the quaint little settlement, Maccready looked around while Ana immediately approached one of the farmers. Thickets of dry forest surrounded them, and Maccready thought how well of a safe house this be. It would be just like the farm he used to live in, ages ago it seemed to be. He looked over to Ana, who slyly plucked a tomato from a vine while the farmer hadn't noticed. He laughed, but a slow dread crept up on him while the thought of what he left behind revived itself in his mind. 

Then they were on the move again. They made their way out the forest and into the city, sticking close to the shadows cast by the leaning buildings. 

"Here," Ana mumbled, eyeing down the door of a department store. "I've cleared this out before, so we should be able to do this quick and easy."

"That's how I like 'em," Maccready said, seeing Ana shake her head before they entered.

He'd never seen anyone move so fast. With her pistol in hand, she took down the four raiders that were standing near the entrance. The suppressor on her pistol- the Deliverer she called it- kept their invasion silent. 

"Check that room to your left, I'll head in here," She told him, and headed straight down the hall. Maccready readied his rifle and stalked his way to the door frame. He smiled to himself. There was only one raider in here, unsuspecting as Maccready took his shot. Fortunately Ana had him install a suppressor onto his rifle as well, or else this whole building would have heard him. Before he turned away, a hot plate caught his eye.

"I'm sure the boss has a thing for these," he mumbled, and walked into the room to grab it from one of the tables. He turned it over. It seemed worthless, a waist of effort to lug it around all the time. Still, he stuffed it into his bag, and turned, and to his surprise and his ego's shame, a pipe pistol leveled with his eyes.

"Hey now," Maccready said. "Why don't you put that down before you hurt yourself."

"Who the fuck-" the raider had snarled. A silent thud cut him off. He abruptly fell to the floor, and Maccready let out a sigh of relief. Ana stood from her crouched position at the door way, her eyes staring him down in that judging way of her's. He shrugged his shoulders.

"Don't get yourself killed," was all that she said, then she led them upstairs, where half a dozen raiders were eating and obviously shooting up every kind of chem there was. 

Ana looked around carefully. She thought for a moment, then looked at Maccready.

"You know what would impress me, Maccready?" she whispered. 

"I'm dying to hear."

"I want you to take out those raiders quick enough that they don't have time to fire a single bullet." 

"That would impress you, huh? What's in it for me?" Maccready asked.

"The 150 caps I negotiated you out of," Ana whispered, and Maccready watched as her tongue glazed over her lips. "Can't you do it... Sharpshooter?"

Silver tongued devil, Maccready thought. He lingered his gaze at her for a moment, maybe drawn to the way she was looking at him. How her eyes locked into his, widened, inviting, warm. 

He raised his scope to his eye, exhaled, then pop, reload, pop, reload, pop... One took out his pipe pistol but Maccready, just to embezzle what he could brag about later, shot it out of his hand then shot his face. Reload. Pop. Reload and pop. He dropped his rifle to his hip, turning at her as she continued to look at what he had done. A small smile slowly spread on her face. 

"You live up to your reputation, then," she said. 

"Damn right I do, doll. Now, about those caps." 

"You'll get them when we get back to those settlers," she said, and with that she glided down the stairs, and he watched her body move with the natural fluidity of an river, herself being just as confusing as an ocean but was as calming as a lake. She's your boss, Robert, he reminded himself, as his eyes roamed farther down than was appropriate. Even still, his eyes lingered, until she was at the first floor and he realized he was lagging behind. 

Damn.


	2. Kindness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maccready realizes that Ana's kindness extends out to him as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to upload this yesterday, I'm sorry. I hope you enjoy this.

Hot plates. Hot plates fucking _everywhere_.

Maccready was surrounded by them. On the counters, in shelves, under rugs, stuffed in couch cushions. Did she have a coffee addiction or did she plan on burning her house down? Is it a woman thing? Lucy never did this. No one does this. He was employed by a lunatic.

A lunatic with a perfect... he thought, eyeing Ana's backside as she bent over, digging through a pile of junk she had just dumped from her bag. He thanked every god out there for her BoS suit, and appreciated how it clung to her body, although he could do away with the leather that seemed to cover certain parts of her his imagination needed help with. He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, taking in the view for as long as he could, no longer trying to listen to the part of him that wanted to remind him that he should be trying to be a better person.

"Maccready, have you seen any of my..." her voice trailed off.

They were at Sanctuary. The soft blue lights of the morning filled the room with a melancholy feeling that tangoed with Maccready's exhaustion. The morning dew was cold against his face, and it woke him up a little after Ana had disrupted his sleep so they could get started on building for some guy named Sturges.

"You sure are a charitable soul," he said to her. She looked back, nearly catching him staring, then stood up and stretched.

She mumbled something, but Maccready didn't catch it and he chose not to ask her to repeat it.

"I help those who need it," she said a little louder, eyeing some gears in her hand. "And I know some one who might have a few things they need help with."

Maccready scoffed. "You mean me?" She threw the gears into a drawer.

"I know _two_ problems you need help with."

He sighed, pushing off from the wall and plopped down onto the couch between two piles of fucking hot plates. "I don't- I don't usually go around sharing stuff like this, but you've been pretty straight with me, so I'm going to be straight with you. You know those assh-" he sighed "- those two idiots you saw me talking to at the Third Rail, Winlock and Barnes. They've been hounding me for months, and it's been driving off clients. No one wants to touch me when they hear I used to run with the gunners."

Ana furrowed her brow, gears turning in that head of her's. "What do you plan to do?"

"I figured I could buy them out," Maccready admitted.

"Maccready," Ana said carefully." Don't you think they'll-"

"That's what concerns me the most. Winlock and Barnes have a small army of goons with them at all times. So yeah, they might just decide to keep the caps and put a bullet in my head for good measure. If I set up a place for us to meet, I'm sure they'd roll in with every body they've got. Unless.."

"Unless?" Ana asked.

"Well, maybe you and I could pay them a little visit and put an end to my problems before they realize what's going on," Maccready said. Doubt lingered in his stomach for a moment, unsure if she'd see his problem as a waste of time and decide to leave him hanging. But she nodded instead.

"Let's go take care of it then"  
_____________________________________________________________________________________________

Taking out the few gunners below the over pass was easy enough- the two sniped them out within seconds. The only sounds that told of their presence were the soft groans the mercs made as they died, then the sound their bodies made as they fell limp to the dry ground.

Ana pointed to the elevator to their right.

"They'll hear us coming. Are you ready?" Ana whispered to Maccready.

"Never not ready, boss." He reloaded his rifle as if to prove his point, and they boarded it.

The elevator was loud, gears turning and grinding with old age and use. Maccready's heart seemed to pound even louder, and he glanced at Ana to see if she noticed, and if she did, the smile she shot him was too sweet to tell. As soon as the elevator made its stop, her expression changed and her eyes narrowed.

She was quick, lethal, and gunners were going down left and right. He pulled his rifle up to his face, and followed her with his own shots as they moved left. Over a dozen gunners came after them, but Ana was always a step ahead of them.

"Corporal to your right, Maccready," Ana called out to him. A gunner in t-60 power armour clanked his way towards them, and Maccready ducked behind a concrete wall as assault rifle rounds blazed past him. Ana crept next to Maccready, and she pulled the key from a grenade before throwing it. Maccready immediately began firing at the corporal, and when the grenade went off Maccready saw the blue of plasma shoot off into the power armour. The gunner fell with a crash.

They moved foward, gunners still shooting them but there was still no sight of Winlock and Barnes. _Where are those assholes?_ Maccready thought. The universe answered in a terrible way, ironic and tragic. Maccready's fortune always seemed the worst.

Ana cried out, and Maccready saw her tumble down for only a second, blood drenching her clothes instantly, but stood and began shooting towards Winlock.

"Damnit!" Maccready hissed. Then he saw Barnes beside Winlock, and together, the last of the gunners, they sent a barrage of bullets towards them. Maccready tried to make his way to Ana, who was crouched behind an overturned desk some yards ahead of him. But every time he tried to make his way past the metal shack he was hidden against, bullets whizzed past him in a frenzy.

"It's over Maccready!" He heard Winlock say.

"It's not over 'till I'm dead," Maccready growled back, peaking through a small crack in the wall. His breathing was rigid and his eyes searched crazily for Ana, but he smiled when he saw her sneaking over to the side of the two goons. The boneheads hadn't even noticed her as she slunked around the side of their junk wall, and was aiming down her sights.

Only a moment later, he saw Barnes body fall to the floor, and Maccready took a chance and shot, watching as Winlock's shoulder exploded with blood and knocked him to the floor.

Maccready sprinted towards Ana, vaulting over a few rusting cars and turning the corner to find her pointing her pistol at Winlock.

"This ain't the end of it, bitch," Winlock snarled. He saw Maccready. "You're right- it's not over 'till you're dead, but it's about to be over real fucking soon for you."

Ana shot him. And although it seemed that it had been taken care of, Maccready felt as if his problems had just gotten worse.

She turned to him. Maccready grimaced at the sight of her. Gunner blood covered her face down to her shoes, and from her chest came a larger, darker pool of blood.

"Oh, man, boss," Maccready began, and he rushed over to her, dropping his rifle and grabbing a stimpack from his bag. He helped her take off her leather chest armour, her body stiff with pain. She zipped down her BoS body suit, revealing the wound just below her collar bones. She blushed, looking away from him as he pricked her with the needle. He pulled out his knife, and used the tip to gently extract the bullet. It was somewhat deep, and Maccready carefully dug the knife deeper inside, causing Ana to whimper in pain. He felt the metal of the bullet against the knife. Hesitantly, he carved the bullet out.

"I'm-I'm sorry, boss. Here, yeah I got it. I got it," he blabbered, and shakily dropped the .45 round onto the ground. He took out a Med-x and administered it, and heard Ana sigh with contempment. "Oh, Fu- frick. Are you ok?" He asked. She pulled out an old dress she had scavenged, and pressed it to her chest.

"I've bled a lot worse before," she told him. She wavered as she stood, and even under her blood mask he could see how sickly pale she'd become.

"We should- you should- we gotta get you to a doctor," Maccready stammered, but Ana shook her head. "Come on."

"Maccready, no," she resisted, but he pulled her arm over his shoulder. Maccready grabbed his rifle from the ground and slowly but surely they made their way to the elevator. Her body was tense, or as tense as it could be while weak and quickly losing blood. The elevator groaned as it descended, and Ana felt lighter and lighter against him.

"Hey, boss, hey, stay with me," Maccready whispered to her. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head but she nodded.

He took her to a settlement south west of there, one that Ana had helped only a few days ago. They took her in without a thought, and like that she was out of his hands and thrust into someone else's. They gave him a look of "what did you do to her?", the disdain of distrust written on their faces as it had the first time they had seen him. He couldn't really blame them either. Everyone around him faced misfortune, but those closest, proximity wise, seemed to receive the most punishment for running with Maccready. Lucy, Duncan, and now Ana.

He found himself wandering around, the weight of guilt keeping him sluggish. Soon the sun was hiding behind the horizon line, and he was ushered into a long metal shack, then into a room that he would be borrowing for the night. Then he was alone, the quiet of the room a sharp contrast to the thoughts running in his head. He sprawled out on the bed, the springs digging into his back. He closed his eyes.

He realized after a few hours that he wasn't going to be able to fall asleep. The wirring of generators behind him and the loud thoughts that pounded their way to his attention fought off his exhaustion. _If he hadn't asked Ana to help him..._ He grabbed the vodka from his bag, remembering Ana's expression of disgust as she had watched him pick it up from a raider camp. He drank. He drank and he drank and he drank. He remembered his promise to Duncan to be a better person, clean up his act, but the thought was drowned out by the drink.

Sleep hit him hard, the darkness of his mind consumed him. Then, sometime before the sun rose, a nudge woke him from his coma. He reached for his gun instinctively, but realized where he was and instead sat up, putting a hand to his head.

"What time is it?" Maccready groaned.

"The general would like to see you," the settler said. She was a ghoul, her skin gnarled over her tight muscles, and yellow teeth shown under nonexisting lips. Her black eyes darted around the room.

"Oh man, is she ok?" Maccready asked, running a hand through his hair.

The ghoul nodded. "Fine as can be. Come on, I'll take you to her-"

"Are you sure she asked for me? I mean- does she really want to see me?" Maccready asked. The ghoul shrugged.

"She asked me to send for you, so here I am. You comin' or not?"

_Ass._

She leaded him four buildings down, and pushed him inside and shut the door behind him. The building was a makeshift infirmary at the moment. Before, he could only guess that it was a store room: some counters were filled with cans of food and boxes of mac and cheese were left on the ground. But in the corner, near a large, blinded window, was a bed. Maccready walked to it, his head pounding from his binge. But his heart sank, looking at the paleness of Ana's skin. She was facing the window, and Maccready was unsure what she was staring at.

"Boss..." Maccready mumbled. She turned over, the only clothing on her were binds that were wrapped around her chest. She pulled her blanket up to her collar bones.

"Morning," she said. Her voice was groggy and her eyes lagged to open fully. She was clean, the blood a nightmare of yesterday. Her hair was a mess and flowed over the pillows like untamed streams. A pack of Med-x was hooked into her am.

"Yeah, good morning. Uh, you know, about yesterday, I'm-I'm really sorry. I didn't mean-"

"Hey, hey, no. Shh. It's ok. It was my fault," she slurred. "I was looking at you, trying to make sure you weren't doing anything... you know- _Maccready_ like."

Maccready snorted pathetically, and Ana stretched her arms. "You should be worrying about yourself," he said.

"I can't worry about myself when _you_ are all I think about," she said. Her voice was dreamy, and Maccready knew she was high out of her mind but he still felt queasy by what she said. Lucy popped into his head- his wife, or _was_ his wife- but Ana, he knew nothing about her. But something told told him she actually cared about what happened to him out here. He looked at her- her dark golden eyes, shy smile- she was nothing like Lucy but maybe he could feel the same way for her.

Fear swelled in his stomach. He shouldn't feel that way. He couldn't because Duncan needed him to be earning caps, not chasing some assassin through the commonwealth. So he looked at her again, this time with a sort of sadness. She reached up at him, but he stepped back and away from her.

"Go back to sleep Ana. You should rest," He said, and walked out, leaving behind the ocean he wished he could have drowned in.

 


	3. Where to Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ana wakes up to find that Maccready has left. She is faced by more of his problems and she has to deal with them, but forgoes her own.

Her pipboy illuminated her face, the light burning her eyes as she searched over her map. Where to go, what to do, who needs and who wants. So many things pulled at her, picking apart what she offered until there was none left to keep for herself. The night grew darker as she stared harder into the pip boy. Goodneighbor seemed the brightest icon on her device. It called to her, beckoned, promising something she knew she'd be too afraid to grab for herself.

Robert Joseph Maccready. The name repeated itself in her head. The only sound now that he was gone. No pointless blabbering. No pointless jokes. No pointless laughing.

Everything was so quiet. Now she had to listen to herself.

And there was nothing but negativity. Thoughts of her late husband swirled around like a cloud above her head, and Shaun, her son- some how older than her now, wrinkled and close to death. It was a new nightmare she never thought she had to face. She pushed the thoughts aside.

Who needed her. Where was she needed. Those were thoughts she should be having. Self loathing doesn't help people. It doesn't help her. She picked up her gun, and started off again, walking in the direction of the moon.

Dogmeat trotted beside her. The leather of his light armour made soft shuffling sounds as he darted ahead foward.

At some point she decided to go North, reasoning that Preston would have some work for her. More than once she thought of going to see Nick, whose detective agency needed an extra set of hands. She argued against it, because although Ana was emotionless to some, cold to others, Nick could see past what she fronted. And she let him- nobody has ever gotten under her skin so quickly.

Yet Maccready was a close second. She trusted him, and became used to his presence so much that she was sure when she turned around she'd see his slim figure close behind her, hardened rifle in hand.

Dogmeat was some yards ahead of her when he let out a low growl. She barely caught it before she saw movement ahead of her, and quickly knelt down. The tall grass covered her and her companion. She drew her rifle, and looked down the scope. The moon sprinkled white light over the grass, which moved in such a unison that it could have been mistaken for a white wave. Bulky silhuettes of men disrupted the harmony, and by the way they were dressed, Ana assumed they were gunners. She decided against picking them off, and chose to sneak around them.

"Dogmeat," she whispered. The dog hesitantly crawled to her, and together they made their way left ward. She pulled her hood down and began to sprint. The only sound was soft padding, the only feeling was the cold hitting her face, causing her eyes to water. She was running and Dogmeat was running beside her, everything was as it was, calm and silent. This was harmony in the night, and she was the wind and the darkness was her wings and maybe she cold have gone anywhere she wanted.

But with a crack that sounded a lot like lightning, she was shot down. Her body froze with pain, the night's silence was disrupted and she heard men hooting and laughing like hyenas,  
and she wouldn't let herself fall to the ground while Dogmeat stood by her side in defiance.

"Go away Dogmeat, go home," Ana hissed at him. "Go home." The dog let out a snarl as the men- gunners- approached her, looking down at her as they eyed her crippled leg. There were three, all masked and in dark clothing. She heard their ragged breathing, hearts thumping with adrenaline as a man would after shooting down a trophy kill. Dogmeat growled louder, baring his teeth as they inched foward. The men laughed, and before Ana could move Dogmeat, one of them hit him with the butt of his rifle.

"Dogmeat!" Ana cried as the dog whimpered and fell to the floor. She pulled him closer to her, his body limp but he was still breathing and she sighed with a little relief.

"You're that fucking bitch who shot down Winlock and Barnes, huh?" One of them asked. Ana glared at him. "You know what- I don't got time for this-" one of them stomped down on the bullet wound on Ana's thigh, and she screamed in pain. It seared down into her bone and down to her foot, and she placed shaking hands on her skin when he removed his boot.

He crouched down to her, face only inches away. "This is how it's gonna go- you anwer our questions, do what we fuckin' say, or we are gonna make you wish you never learned to shoot a gun, ya fuckin' hear me?" He growled. He hardly waited for her to nod before he threw her over his shoulder. She groaned in pain as his shoulder dug into her abdomen.

The loss of blood from her leg made her drowsy, and eventually the night faded into her consciousness.

___________________________________________________________________________________

There was a rhythmic tempo of thuds against a metallic floor. Her skin felt wet, and she shivered as the cold air tightenned her skin. Her eyes opened, but her vision was blurry. Shapes and faded hues of colour teased her vision. She felt weak. She tried to move her arm but her wrist- both of her wirsts were bound to eachother. Her head was held up by a rope around her neck, she knew by the scratchy material, and her knees throbbed with all of her body weight being pressed down onto them.

"She's awake," she heard some one say.

Another voice, harsh and emotionless, seemed to cut through the room. "Good, good. Throw some more water on her. Wake her up a little more, huh?"

The water was terribly cold, and it bit her skin like a thousand tiny needles. Even through her BoS suit she felt the bitter numbness begin to grow across her flesh. She whimpered, trying to move but her knees were contrained into their position. She blinked furiously, and her vision cleared to a suitable blur. She could see the two men in the room- one a stout, muscular man, and the other was more vulture like. She knew automatically that the eerie voice had belonged to him.

He was bald, and even his eyebrows were shaved off. He wore the typical gunner clothing but he didn't look anything like a mercenary to Ana. His nose was crooked, and hooked upward , making his nostrils face outward rather than downward. His thin lips were upturned in an all too eager smile. Otherwise, he was tall and gaunt, legs disproportionately long and shoulders too wide.

" _Take me in, sunshine_ ," he purred. He stood with his hands behind his back, almost friendly. He laughed, but nothing like Ana had ever heard. It was cold, void of anything happy. It almost seemed forced, as if he did it to appear a little human.

"You know, I've been hearing about you ever since you stepped out of the vault. How you went from _Susie home maker_ to Susie sniper, I'll never know," he said, his smile growing, as if it was going to stretch up to his ears. His light blue eyes darted from her face down to her body as he spoke, and she squirmed in disgust.

"And Bobby. _Bobby, Bobby, Bobby_. We took him in, gave him a place to really belong. Then he turns around and fucking _quits_ , leaves, and he had the audacity to keep working in our territory. What's worse- I'll tell you what's fucking worse- he brings _you_ to shoot down one of our bases. Ha! Great!" He cackled. His tone took an unexpected turn from calm to angry, and with every word his voice became more and more high pitched. Meanwhile, he brought his hands from behind his back, and the long hunting knife he held shined in the light as he fiddled with it.

"It's real fucking great! Huh Bruce?"

The other man in the room sheepishly stood from his chair. "Yeah? Yeah, it's- it's great."

"See! We're fucking ecstatic around here! You know what else we are so fucking happy about?" He leaned forward and cupped her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes. He smelled like cigarettes and rotting fish, and her eyes watered as bile filled her throat.

"We are happy for our little _reunion_ with Bobby. Guess it's too bad he wasn't following tail with you. Don't suppose where he is, sunshine?" he asked. Ana shook her head. The man threw her head and the rope around her neck choked her as she tried to regain composure.

"Well," he began, pressing the tip of the knife into her chin. His smile widened even further, and she saw the man he had called Bruce turn away.

"We'll find him ourselves. As long as it takes for my men to search, I guess you and _I_ will have a little fun in here."

Ana's throat went dry. He dug deeper, and drug the knife down her jaw line. Ana winced, biting her lip. She felt the wetness of blood cascade down to her neck.

The man twitched. "The sight of blood- it _really_ gets me going. What about you, sunshine?" he purred.

She turned away, the look in his eye an all too familiar a hunger. She felt him dig the knife down into her neck, then make it's way to where her jumpsuit began. She listened to it unzip, continuing to feel the knife carve into her body, until both the zipper and knife stopped just above her navel. The cold air attacked her exposed skin, and the warmth of her blood trickled down her chest.

Everything that was exposed now- he cut into. Like an abstract artist, he created lines that curled and jetted and some were deeper than others. Her cries were controlled at first, but she quickly deteriorated into a wailing mess. As he rubbed the knife between her legs, blood dripped down her body, but it wasn't enough to kill her. She tried not to notice the bulge in his pants. She would rather die than to be forced to go through it again- she'd bite her tongue to keep from going through the shame.

And it felt like so many drawn out hours. She fought and cried, bucked and snapped with her teeth, until finally she was giving in and just taking the pain.

But when he finally did drop the knife, she felt some sort of relief. He wiped the thick film of blood from his hands onto his pants with a content sigh.

"Too bad you won't be around to see when we kill Bobby," the man said. "I'll be missing you, but you'll be entertaining those raiders down at the Combat Zone. Bruce, come get her ready. I've got other business to tend to," he ordered, and with a wave he stepped quickly out of the room.

Bruce cut apart the ropes, and Ana took her chance. She snatched the pistol from his belt and forced it to the underside of his jaw. His eyes widened and his body tensed against her's.

"How many gunners are here?" she asked.

"J-just a couple dozen," he stuttered.

She ordered him to face the wall and press himself against it, and she zipped up her body suit. Her cuts stung as the cloth pressed into them, but she ignored it. She aimed at Bruce, but she decided to leave him out of pity. She navigated from room to room, taking out the unaware gunners she encountered. The rooms smelled like decaying brahmin, and unwashed men feet. The walls were covered in pinup posters and weird stains that she could only guess were blood. And trash riddled the ground, along with spent ammo.

Most of the windows were boarded up, but she found one that had a crack in it. She peered through it, and realized she was at the top of some building in Concord. She huffed.

She raced down the first and second flights of stairs, emptying rooms before going through the next. She finally got to the bottom floor, and fortunately stumbled on a gunner who was toying with her own pistol. She shot him in his bulky head, then tossed the gun in her hand aside. She kissed her pistol, then moved on.

Ana found the exit. She kicked open the doors and almost smiled at freedom, but she was instead met with a group of gunners, and in the middle of them was Maccready. She noticed he was unscathed, so he came partially willingly at least. She didn't have any time to greet him, though, finding her desire to fucking kill the assholes next to him were stronger than her desire to be polite. They were so stunned that only one bullet grazed her shoulder before they were all drowning in their own blood.

The dust settled, and Ana watched Maccready grab his rifle from one of the mercs. Then he took a step towards her, eyeing her. She must have looked terrible. Maccready's frown contorted into a grimace as he looked her over, eyes trailing from the cut on her chin to the blood soaked into her clothes.

"I guess that's how we do things around here, huh?" he said. When Ana didn't reply, he stepped closer to her. "What happened?"

She opened her mouth, but couldn't find the courage to tell him- she was almost raped, cut up, shamed, exposed. "I had to deal with more of _your_ problems," she ended up snapping. Maccready was taken back, she could tell, and she immediately regretted it. But his eyes became soft, rather than angered.

They stood in uncomfortable silence, until Ana started walking down the sidewalk of the city. She didn't know if he'd follow, but halfway down the street she heard him jogging behind her.

Sanctuary was her destination but a radiation storm was brewing just an hour after they started walking. Green hinted through the small building walls they were hunkered down in.

"These rads are making me feel sick to my stomach," Maccready groaned. Ana apologized under her breath, and curled herself up on the only bed in the room. She caught Maccready staring at her, but she pretended she didn't notice the way his expression turned slightly concerned. She was bloody. She felt sticky and her scratches were ripping under her suit.

"You should really change out of that," Maccready told her.

"I will once we get to sanctuary. I don't have my things," Ana replied. She heard him dig through his bag, and she sat up as he held out her vault suit.

"I never got to return this."

"Well yeah, because you just _left_ ," Ana spat, and snatched it from his hands.

"I didn't know it was going to turn out this way. I thought if we took out those fuckers- ugh, I mean Winlock and Barnes- that they'd leave me alone," Maccready said.

Ana pressed her hands into her face. "I'm sorry- I know. It's not your fault. I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry. Look at you, you look like crap," he said. Ana laughed, almost surprised by the sound, but then laughed some more. She wiped at her face, but Maccready walked over to her and ran his thumb over her skin. His hands were calloused and rough but it was soothing all the same. He took out some water and wetted his hand before wiping her face again, gently going over the large cut that ran from the whole side of her jaw. Then his thumb traced over the cuts on her neck.

"I'm going to rip every limb from the asshole that did this to you," he mumbled. His eyes flickered to her's and her breath caught.

He softly brushed his lips against her mouth. She felt how dry his lips were from dehydration, and his facial hair pricked at her face, but the warmth of him so close to her was the best thing that she had felt since she lost her family. He tangled his hands into her and she let out a soft moan as he licked at her bottom lip, and he slipped his tongue inside. Everything was so soft and gentle- and suddenly her pain was gone and nothing existed outside of the room.

She wanted to continue this, to continue to melt into him but she just couldn't yet. She pressed her hands into his chest, and he groaned as she disconnected. He looked desperate, and he pushed against her to close the distance again, but she nodded her head.

"I'm not ready, I can't," Ana whispered. Maccready nodded. He stood silent for a few moments, gathering himself.

Then he picked up her vault suit, and handed it to her. She grabbed it and he turned around so that she could could change. She slowly zipped down her body suit. Her wounds reopenned and spread down her already blood soaked body.

"Maccready," she whimpered. He turned back around, and his eyes widened with care as he saw.

" _Oh man_ ," he breathed. He helped her step out of her clothes, then took the water he had used earlier to wash away the blood. He was careful and gentle, apologetically looking up at her face every once in a while. Her bloodied bra still clung to her chest, and it wreaked. She unclasped it and covered herself. Ana heard Maccready grunt, and she tried not to mind it. When he cleaned what he could, they got on her vault suit, but didn't zip it up all the way until Maccready wrapped some gauze across her chest.

"You've done this before," Ana said. Maccready let out a chuckle.

"A few times to myself," he said.

When they finished, she laid back down onto the bed. She was surprised when Maccready plopped down beside her, putting his hands behind his bed and staring up at the ceiling. For a few minutes neither of them moved, and Ana listened to Maccready's steady breathing. She slowly crept her hand across his chest, centering it then pulled herself closer to him. She cuddled into the side of him. He smelled like gunpowder and sweat, but she got used to it.

And soon she was drifting to sleep, unaware of the problems that still lurked in the shadows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reading other people's fics kinda made me lose confidence in my own, which is stupid I know. But I'm not really happy with how I'm writing Maccready I guess.


End file.
